


Bubble, Bubble

by pendragonfics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hufflepuff Reader, M/M, No Pronouns Used/Mentioned, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Teenage Drama, Young Love, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonfics/pseuds/pendragonfics
Summary: A fifth-year Hufflepuff, Reader is in charge of the Potion's Club. When Ron, their crush, plays hooky on the meetings he's supposed to be present at one time too many, can Reader make sense of their feelings toward him?
Relationships: Neville Longbottom & Reader, Ron Weasley & Reader, Ron Weasley/Reader, Ron Weasley/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Bubble, Bubble

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from my Tumblr!

Being in love sucks - but being in love with your friend? Now, _that’s_ was even worse.

For years, you’d kept it in. It was something small, bubbling in the bottom of your stomach whenever you set eyes upon Ronald Weasley. It turned into something else over the years; your Hufflepuff nature hid the fear that the feelings gave you, and while around the kids from the other houses, they brushed off the timidity toward Ron. You spent so very much of your time at Hogwarts pining after a boy, someone who thought of you only as a friend. He took Padma Patil to the Yule Ball and he hung around Hermione so much that you knew that it wasn’t just friendship.

But no. No matter what, your feelings were just small, and yours.

That’s why you dedicated yourself so much to Potions.

Not many people could see the difference between being favoured by Professor Snape and being on his good side. The first was, of course, Draco Malfoy, the golden boy of Slytherin. But the latter? Why that was you. While your family weren’t made of money, fame and fortune, you were dedicated and somewhat gifted with the ability of cohesive potion-making. And while both Hermione Granger and you were fantastic at the subject, she was disliked for her voracious application to learning while you were tolerated.

Around the same time that the Tri-Wizard Tournament business started up, you decided to ask Professor Snape if you could revive the old tradition of a Potion’s Club. It was a longshot, but startingly, he agreed, but only if you were in charge. It was the club that kept you going after your prefect Cedric Diggory was killed last year, and it was the very same club that was dedicated to lifting the grades of others in your class. Which meant that under your tutelage, you had to help the ever-failing Harry Potter, and Ron.

But it meant that while Potions Club was originally once a week, every Tuesday evening after the last Arithmancy class, it was now at the whims of the Gryffindor Quidditch practice times. Parvati Patil couldn’t make it to the meetings anymore, and both Justin Finch-Fletchley and Blaise Zabini weren’t bothered to come after two weeks of putting up with a changeable schedule. It left you and Neville waiting a lot in the library for Harry and Ron, often to disappointment.

Just like tonight.

“I’m sorry ________, I’ve got to study for charms,” Neville gave you a sad smile. He was a good egg, that boy, too good to be putting up with what he did from the other students. “G’night.”

“Good night, Neville,” you nod, and once he’s gone from earshot, you let out a sigh. Madame Pince walked another lap in your peripheral vision. You weren’t sure if you saw it in the lowlight because she almost looked like there was pity upon her face. But when you turned to her, she was scowling as usual. “Sorry. I know it’s almost eight.”

“Just be out of here before it,” she replied, tone clipped. A beat passed, and then she said, “You know, books will never disappoint you as boys do.”

Before you could reply, she marched off, returning to her receptacle by the entrance.

At ten-to, you began gathering your parchment, folding your notes into order once again. You replaced the textbooks to their place on the shelves and neatly pushed the chairs back into the table once you stood. Wordlessly, you left the library on time and quietly made your way to the Hufflepuff dormitory. You were halfway there when you heard voices; you were late in the hallway, and it was almost curfew for students. But you _knew_ those voices.

It wasn’t very Hufflepuff of you, but you suddenly felt very mad. Before the two boys rounded the corner, you ran from the scene, back to your common room, and once you made it to your bed, you cried hot, angry tears.

* * *

You didn’t mean to get to class so very early. But you _did_ mean to avoid everyone all week. To think that you even beat Professor Snape to his own Potion’s room! You barely glanced up as the door opened, watching as he entered the room with a wave of his wand. The candles lit themselves wordlessly. When he noticed that he wasn’t alone, you sat up a little straighter.

“Miss ________,” he narrowed his eyes, taking you and the situation in. “To what do I owe the pleasure…?”

You go to stand, wiping your eyes. But in the candlelight, you know there’s no way to hide just how affected you are to your mentor. It’s the first Potions class since the incident, and you’re feeling more worse for wear than anything.

“It’s nothing, Professor,” you sniff, straightening your uniform. “Silly stuff.”

He continues to the front of the classroom, placing his things by the standing desk. Instead of ignoring you, however, he looks to you once more, arms crossed before his chest. You’re still standing behind your usual desk, the distance of the classroom separating you and your teacher.

“If this ‘silly stuff’ is to interfere with the work of my best student, I suggest you air your grievances,” He says monotonously.

You take a breath. “I - I’ve been avoiding Ron and Harry because they fooled around at the last potions’ club meeting.”

“Those two are warranted to act like fools.” Professor Snape remarked.

“Yeah, but…they didn’t come at all. They, er, they left me waiting there in the library like an idiot. And I’m avoiding them, but…” You can’t help it, you can’t continue. A little tear dribbles from the corner of your eye, and unbidden, you sniff and swipe it away. “They’re my friends.”

“I hardly have the most stellar opinions of Mr’s Potter and Weasley,” Professor Snape stated, paying attention to the papers in his arms. You were glad of it, and hung off his every word, waiting for what was to come next. “But…”

“But?”

“You are young and are to learn and grow as things affect you. If you are _truly_ ,” he stressed the word in a way that you only ever heard him say ‘pay attention’ in class, “friends with those miscreant boys, outside of the tutelage of the potions’ club,” he paused once more, as if to reminisce, but you weren’t sure what he could be thinking of, “You would…”

“Forgive them?” you wondered.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. “Confront is the word _I_ would use.”

You considered his words quietly, but before you could ask more questions, the rest of the fifth year potion’s filed into the classroom. Professor Snape resumed his place at the front of the classroom, and you saw your friends. Hermione marched in ahead of Draco, who skulked in with Blaise, Vincent and Gregory at his heels. Some other people came in, people you never really became friends with. Rounding the end, you watched as Harry and Ron entered, somewhat reluctantly, rounded up by…Neville?

The only free seats were the three nearby to your desk.

You bristle, preparing for the worst, but just as Harry, Ron and Neville approach, the latter pushed them a little toward you, looking as menacing as a Longbottom could do. “Say it,” he said. “You promised.”

Harry and Ron looked to their shoes before you heard them say, “Sorry for being prats to you, ________.” The pair of friends apologised, much to your surprise. You felt no words come to you, and quiet, you just sit there, feeling a strange sensation: jubilation.

Neville took a seat beside Harry, leaving Ron to sit beside you. You glanced toward the red-headed boy, feeling your heart jumping just a little. It was at the same opportune time that he looked to you, and feeling your face heat with embarrassment, you looked down to your parchment, at the ready for notetaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I lost track of time out on the pitch with Harry, and I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He spoke almost maturely, with words that weren’t rehearsed. “…________?”

“Yes, Ron?” you ask, not sure what to feel.

“…” he paused, looking to his hands balled into fists upon his desk, and then back to you. “I suppose…do you wanna come with me to Hogsmede next weekend? I’ll buy you butterbeer to make up for this mess.”

You felt a smile widening on your face, and quickly, before you lost the nerve, you felt yourself move toward him, and peck him quickly upon the cheek. “I’d like that.” you say, and straightening yourself in your perch, you add, “but if you want help not to fall behind in potions, we’ll need to study together too.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he agreed.

* * *

From the front of the room, Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

_Young love._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr on as @chaotic--lovely, and if you want to request a fic, check out [@pendragonfics](https://pendragonfics.tumblr.com/request_conditions)! ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


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